As to contemplation, it is only when a person is advanced enough that he can contemplate; because contemplation is not on an object, it is on an idea. No doubt a man may think that he is ready to do anything, and that after concentration he can contemplate; but the nature of the mind is such that it slips out of one's hands the moment one tries to hold it. Therefore before one really starts to think the mind has already thrown off the object of concentration like a restive horse.

Mind is not always so unruly; it proves to be unruly when it wants to rule itself. It is like the body: one may feel restful sitting naturally, but as soon as one keeps quite still for five minutes, the body begins to feel restless; and it is still more difficult to make the mind obey. Mystics therefore find a rope to tie the mind in a certain place where it cannot move. What is that rope? That rope is breath. It is by that rope that they bind the mind and make it stand where they wish it to stand. It is like the bird which uses its saliva to make its nest; so is it with the mystic who out of breath creates atmosphere, creates light and magnetism in which to live.

One characteristic of the mind is that it is like a gramophone record: whatever is impressed upon it, it is able to reproduce; and another characteristic of the mind is that it does not only reproduce something, but it creates what is impressed upon it. If ugliness is recorded, it will produce disagreement, illharmony. The learning of concentration clears the record, makes it produce what we like, not what comes automatically.

In this world one is so open to impressions. One goes about with eyes and ears open, but it is not only the eyes, not only the ears which are open; the lips are open to give out what the eyes and ears take in, that is the dangerous part.